Easter Monday, and being any Monday, my spell in the laundry. Then I took off on my walk.
St Andrews is pretty much a ghost town, with all the student on Easter break, curtains in their flats hang limp and dishevels, indicating departure in hast. The streets too, devoid of Q outside the coffee shops, with no students needing their daily fix. Taking the roadshow out would have been a total waste of time today.
I did however do a perambulation of the town. The ice-cold wind was howling along South Street where men Q outside the gent’s hairdressers, I did not join them, I hate standing in Qs and will do without first.
Dropping down to the Kinness Burn. Now out of the wind, it was pleasant walking along the path beside the crystal clear water of the low running burn. The Willow waved her greeting in the genial wind as if to show off her bright new dress, to its best.
I carried on along the foot bath to the bridge at Dempster Place, where the Flowering Cherry was in full bloom. Ducks rushed forward at my coming, sorry boys and girls, no bread today.
Up now past the Byre Theatre, So-called, (elementary dear Watson) because it was once a byre.
Turning back into South Street, the icy blast hit me head-on. At St Andrews, Holy Trinity Parish Church, I turned into the square.
At the time of its building the parish church would have been within the cathedral precinct, the new church was built so that the church could distance itself, physically and metaphorically from the influence of the cathedral. At the time of its building the church was not just a place of worship, it was a place of commerce. Altars were founded within the church, at which prayers could be said for their founder. Eventually, there may have been over thirty such altars within Holy Trinity, some of which would have served as guild altars for the trades of the burgh.
It was from the pulpit of the Holy Trinity Parish Church, that John Knox roared out against the Roman Catholics, his vial tong did insight the congregation to march on the Dominicans friary, a little further down South Street from the parish church and as Knox would have it, kick the Papists out of St Andrews. The ruins of the Black Friar still stands by the roadside.
The Dominican friars founded in around 1215, in the Toulouse area of southern France, came to Scotland around 1230. the order placed great stress on academic learning as a way of combating heresy, so St Andrews would have been a natural choice for the order in Scotland.
Church Square where I had set up my stall the other day was all but deserted, only a few outside the coffee shop awaiting their orders to be taken.
Home once more, where I met Jean in the hallways, she wanted to know what should be done with the Geraniums?
I suggested, landfill, I told her they are all dead. I had removed three from their troughs, and there was no sign of life, so not worth hanging onto. I persuaded her to fill the planters with strawberry plant grown especially for hanging baskets, not only would it be a show in the summer but I’m sure the strawberries will not go to waste.
“That’s a brilliant idea” she said.
“Guess who got the job or ordering (and I’m sure planting them when they arrive)?????
So it has been a very interesting morning